Let Loose: Stories of the Avengers
by uniquefreak13
Summary: Just some random writings of things that were Avengers inspired
1. Death Wish

AN: Just some little tidbits of something I was working on a few months ago, nothing concrete. These are just a few moments that I wanted to write with this character "Death Wish" interacting with the Avengers and Loki. If this gets overwhelmingly positive feedback then I might consider actually filling in the blank spots and making it a short story. Who knows. Enjoy.

Death Wish

Have you ever woken up with the four words "I should be dead" seemingly etched into your lips from the thousands of times you seem to say them? Your body sore and covered in the remains of a hard fought battle, your hair and face crusted with blood that you're not sure is yours, the taste of the metal pin of a grenade or the blade of knife burned into your mouth? No? Pity, because that's the only way I seem to be waking up lately. It still surprises me I'm able to sleep at all, overlooking the fact that I barely give myself time to actually wind down and slip out of consciousness, I've seen a lot of gruesome things in my days, things that would make the decomposing zombies and ax wielding murderers of your Halloween movies seem like Fairy Princesses and Sparkly Unicorns. And now you wonder what I could possibly do that forces me to witness such horribly awful scenes on a seemingly daily basis.

I could give you the watered down version of a poor little girl searching for some guidance in her sad little life, hoping for someone to accept her and her strange ways. Or I could tell you the long ass version which details quite extensively my life from when I was dumped out of my mother's womb to this very moment, where for some reason I'm going over what the epithet on my grave would say as I lean over Agent Clint Barton with one of his wickedly sharp arrows in one hand, poised at his left eye, and in the other hand an equally treacherous knife with the tip just barely pointed into his Adam's Apple as if lightly bobs up and down while he tries to regain his breath. However, I'll give you the shortened version, medium of the two aforementioned, and start with the basics.

My name is Dolores Estrada, but I've been called many things. As a child I was referred to only as "Lolita" or "Little Lola" in the training camp I was raised in. My mother, a nurse, and my father, a soldier, were POWs at a small town called Gulmira in Afghanistan. Both of my parents were American, making my grandparents legal immigrants from Mexico, though it didn't matter much to the 10 Rings. To the terrorists, everyone who wasn't one of them was an enemy. It's a good rule to live by in a world like this, so I've learned. However, my parents were horrified to learn that my mother was pregnant with me while they were being held captive and tried to keep me a secret as long as they could, though the 10 Rings eventually found out. My father was murdered soon after although my mother was allowed to continue on in her pregnancy until I was born.

I've been told many times how heartbroken my mother was as she carried me, and I think that pain and suffering influenced my fate even before I was born. As soon as my mother gave birth to me she died, but not before muttering one single word as she lay on her deathbed, my name: Dolores. In Spanish the verb "doler" is "to hurt, to feel pain", making my name literally translate into "Suffers" and "Pain", a fitting name for a child that caused the death of both her parents before she could even walk or talk. That name set my life in stone. From that moment on, I was only seen as a way to bring suffering to others, to bring pain. I was like bad luck incarnate, personified, and embodied. And once the 10 Rings realized this, they jumped to take the chance at training their very own secret weapon.

My childhood was less than desirable, I'll admit. In the beginning all I could ever really remember was bright flashes of explosions every once in a while accompanied with the sharp echoing sounds of bullet on metal, or brick, or flesh. The terrorist group ignored me for the most part. Yes, I was fed regularly, and taken care of fairly well throughout my lifetime, but I wasn't indulged as those fat, lazy, and jaded American children were. I was trained, mentally first, to think out my own solutions, to think out ways to stay alive, to outwit my enemy, whomever it may be.

The physical training came later, of course, when I was around 6 or 7 I was introduced to prisoner that had been kidnapped from an American tour in Afghanistan (even as a child I knew that was a stupid thing and had come to associate the word "American" as a synonym for "Idiot"). The prisoner was a 26 year old gymnast trainer for Olympic athletes who decided she'd take a vacation in the Middle East. It wasn't her lucky summer. The woman was forced to teach me gymnastics until I was around 9 or 10. I had grown closer to the woman throughout the years, as much as I hate to admit it. Yet one day some men toting guns (that's a bit redundant, they're always toting guns) came in on one of my lessons. They stole my teacher, drug her outside by her hair and forced her to her knees in the middle of the village. One of the men slammed the butt of his gun into the base of her neck and I heard a little crack as my gymnast teacher fell over onto the ground. No sooner than had she fallen did the other man aim his gun and shook her in the head 17 times. I counted as I watched from the doorway of the "training room." It was a day I would never forget, because it finally showed me that wherever I went, death followed.

I suppose that's why my birth name and my alter ego are so fitting for me. As I grew older around the town I was known to the Spanish POWs (ones that remembered my parents fondly yet feared me) as "Deseo de Muerte" or Death Wish. Soon it almost felt like I was never Dolores or Lola or Lolita, I was only Death Wish. The name had come to not only describe me, but define me. I was Death Wish, I brought death wishes, to fight me was a death wish I soon figured out as I continued in my training. The 10 Rings had raised me to be a tool for slaughter, a killing machine. And they had done a very good job. No longer was I Little Lola. That nickname had died with my innocence.

"Hola, me llamo Lola," I say to them, a little smirk playing on my lips.

"And of course she only speaks Spanish," growls Fury through the glass at me. "Somebody get a fucking translator in here!"

"Hold up," Stark says, pushing his way to the front of the line until he's directly in front of me. "I got this, public communications worldwide and all." I cock and eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest as he straightens his tie and clears his throat. "Hola, Lola. Estás libre esta noche?"

I only give a single little cruel laugh though it's more melodic than I intended it to be as I roll my eyes towards the ceiling of my little cubicle.

"Stark, we need to interrogate her," Agent Romanov growls as she smacks him on the back of the head. "Not ask her if she's free tonight. Let me handle this." The Black Widow turns her indifferent gaze on me and I can't help but smile at little bit more at how hard she's trying not to let her eyebrow twitch. It's taken me years to get to the point where reading faces is a habit instead of an art, but now that I was finally there it was more simple and second nature than breathing.

"¿Quién eres tú?" the Russian woman demands furiously. I allow myself another smile. _Who are you?_

"Mi nombre es Lola. ¿Y tú? ¿Quién es?" I counter, my Spanish accent impeccable as I toy with her a bit, only repeating my name and asking who she was in return. "_Or perhaps I should speak in your native tongue, Natasha?" _I challenge the woman in Russian. She lets her mask fail for a second, looking the slightest bit shocked before it's back in place.

"She's toying with us," the woman relays to the group, arms crossed over her chest as she mirrors my stance and expression, right down to the cocked eyebrow. "I'm sure she speaks English as well as Spanish and Russian. Probably among other things."

"Took you all long enough to figure out," I scoff with a smile. "Apparently none of you were trained in linguistics. I was sure someone was going to catch the slightest little dialect slip up I had towards the beginning. My accent came out more South American, Peruvian or Brazillian than Mexican." I give them a light shrug. "Guess we all can't be experts."

"Oh, there's no need to hide from me," I purr, leaning against the glass containment unit I've been locked in. There's at least 4 cameras trained on me, and those are only the obvious ones. I give a sultry little smile to them all, knowing the Avengers are watching me from somewhere in the Helicarrier. "It's not like I don't know all of you. Should I start at the beginning of the roll call?" I theatrically clear my throat and start to list off people on my fingers. "Captain America, the leader of the team of misfits. Steve Rogers…" I let the name roll out slowly off the tip of my tongue, each syllable stretched out for as long as it can be before ending the name in a light rumble on the back of my tongue. "The not-so-super-soldier from New York, newly awakened for the Tesserect Battle fought with Loki.

Bringing us to Thor Odinson, Norse god according to Mythology, real life god according to the world, or 'Midgard' as you aliens call it. Next in line for the throne of Asgard, though he declines his calling as deity to protect his precious Earth from, well," I give a light laugh. "People like me. And then we have the brilliant scientists, Robert Bruce Banner and Anthony Edward Stark, both geniuses in their own ways, though battling such horribly scarring things in their lives. Brucie's got some multi-personality problems while Stark can't seem to rid his guilt long enough to notice that as he's trying to help people he's only killing himself faster in the process.

Then, of course, there's Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton, both registered agents for SHIELD, the base of which I'm currently held at, blah blah blah. Both trained assassins with an undying and unprofessed love for one another, something that seems to be straight out of one of those daytime soap operas no one ever watches because they're so predictable. The ending for the Hawk and the Spider? They either get together and realize that they just love each other so much they can't stand it and leave to never see the other again OR, and this option is my favourite, they go out Romeo and Juliet style, double suicide, or perhaps a homicide-suicide if fate is feeling generous. Not much else to say."

"Who do I think I am?" I echo Loki's question, looking him straight in the eyes as he glares at me. "Well, I like to think of myself as an agent of chaos."

Loki snorts rudely at this yet I only smirk at his nasty look, continuing on before he has a chance to speak. "And you immediately find that preposterous, don't you, Odinson?" He scowls at the name. "You assume that since you're the God of Mischief, the God of Lies and Deceit and Treachery that you're the original agent of chaos, don't you?" I laugh cruelly at him as if he's a little boy that's asked a stupid question. "You really have a lot to learn, Jotun. Defeat is not an option for those who serve evil. Yet you've already allowed yourself to be drawn to the level of the humans that you so desperately despise, only because your dear brother cares for them." I sneer at the look of disgust on Loki's face, going on almost instantly. "You claim to hate your brother, you weakling, but if you stopped and took the time to actually analyze your situation, you'd be bright enough to see that the only true opposite of love is indifference. Hate requires passion, which is also a prerequisite for love. By hating your brother, you love him, your hate fuels you to try and best him but you'll never be good enough because you care for him too much. You can never get to the level of indifference with Thor because underneath your callous and despising shell that you've put up, Thor is the brother you grew up with and you love him more dearly than anyone ever can."

Loki looks shocked, and stays that way for a good 5 seconds or so before snapping out of it, a snarl lighting up his face fiercely though it lacks conviction. I smirk knowing my words of truth have gotten to the Asgardian. "You listen here, mortal, there is nothing stopping me from coming in there and breaking every single bone in your body until you scream for mercy for the blights you have just committed by accusing me of such a thing as loving the idiotic oaf that I grew up with living in the shadow of."

"There's quite a bit stopping you," I say casually, turning so that I'm leaning against the glass with my back to the angry god.

"You must not comprehend the level of fury you have unleashed, human-" Loki begins, obviously trying to sound as if he's threatening me.

I give a scoffing sigh, glancing over my shoulder to look at him. "You've done it again, Loki."

"What do you presume that I have done again, minx?" he roars. Some of his angry spit hits the outside of the glass of my chamber.

"You let someone get to you," I tell him softly with a secret little smile. "You let someone get under your armor, under the tough skin that you just assumed would be bullet proof to any attack that may be waged on it." I turn my head to rest my chin on my shoulder, looking at Loki expectantly with my deep brown eyes. "You're hating me, Loki. Hate is passion. Passion leads to love. Your lack of indifference is refreshing, and I yearn to see more of it." Loki sputters blankly at me, seeing how once more he's been led into a verbal trap where he really has no sufficient response. He finally settles on glaring at me, his green eyes narrowing in disgust and distaste though I can see the uncertainty blooming in them, evident in his too-deep crease lines between his eyebrows. I've made him actually think, for once.

"I shall deal with you later, mortal," he growls under his breath, trying to seem intimidating. Before he turns to stalk off I blow him a light kiss, uttering a final farewell in Spanish as he leaves, his long over coat fluttering behind him as he walks off.

"Adios, mi amor." My smirk is too large to contain and I feel like the Chesire Cat knowing he can't understand a word I say.

Goodbye, my love.


	2. Avengers-Batman OC Crossover

AN: This is pretty old, but after watching the Avengers back in May, I wanted to see what would happen if both my OCs switched places in their repsective universes. I think I could dig up some more but for now this is just a little taste of what could be. Review if you want more.

Avengers-Batman Crossover

It was supposed to be a normal day for Tony Stark, that sunny summer, Saturday afternoon. Well, as normal a day as an Avenger can have, at least. The billionaire woke up, with the aid of his handy dandy computerized butler, otherwise known as Jarvis, and began his morning with a brisk mile jog around the Californian Mountains his mansion was situated between. After following a normal schedule for the next few hours, Stark took his private jet to New York City where he would monitor the progress being made on rebuilding Stark Tower. Nothing seemed to be any more than out of ordinary that day. And so when yet another wannabe terrorist plagued the streets of Tony's town, he simply sighed and called up his sidekick, Crush, who had been bunking with Tony's secretary and her aunt, Pepper Potts, in Stark's extra apartment.

"Hey, Crush," he says as he calls her. "Disturbance on 23rd. Get up and deal with it."

"Yes, your majesty," the 16 year old sidekick grumbles, obviously just woken up at the ripe hour of 11 am. "Be there in a minute."

And she hadn't been exaggerating. A minute later Crush was flying down the streets of NYC, proudly bearing her armor as she neutralized the weak terrorist threat. Within a few minutes the crazed man was being led away in cuffs and the scared crowd that had accumulated dispersed into the city streets.

"Nice work, Negotiating Nancy," Stark comments into the headset that links up to Crush's suit. "Couldn't have done it better myself."

"At least I did stuff!" Jex retorts as Crush. "Who's the one sitting on his ass enjoying a gourmet breakfast?"

Stark takes a hulking bite of a flaky croissant, not even attempting to speak around the food in his mouth. "Me." He swallows after hearing her scoff of contempt. "But who was it that helped save the world last week? Yea, that was me as well."

"Touché," the 16 year old grumbles. "But I'm coming over to raid what you've got. Pepper still hasn't gone shopping." Stark lazily looks out the window of his newly fixed lounge area of Stark Tower, seeing Crush beginning to land on a taller landing pad. Only last week that very spot has been used to open a portal to a hostile alien world, putting the Earth under attack. Tony sipped at his chlorophyll-infused coffee, knowing that the Avengers were the only ones to thank for it being closed.

"I'm starv-" Crush starts, beginning her landing on the pad. In an instant she's gone, disappeared into a flash of white light and flash smoke.

For a moment Tony is completely shocked. His croissant falls to the floor as he stands, a hand to his ear, making sure the comms unit was still in place. "Crush!" he tries. He's met with silence. "Jex!" he tries again, shouting out the 16 year old's name though knowing she can't hear him.

Tony sighs as he calls up Jex's aunt. "Pepper is not going to like this at all."

"Wow, Batsy's letting me patrol all alone," 16 year old Owlet mused quietly as she pushed off from the floor of the Batcave, rising to the ceiling where she knows there is a secret tunnel that leads to a skylight, opened only by its motion activated sensors that have to agree with the flier's biometrics. It scans Owlet and allows her to fly through into the night alone.

The city is lit up brightly as Owlet cruises over it, a half-smirk on her face at the independence she's been given. Sure, she'd patrolled the city alone before. But she'd always done it without Batman's explicit permission. Those times had seemed like an adventure, bun but not quite fulfilling in the end. Owlet recognized this to be a mission, and she was fully ready to take on the responsibilities.

Most of the town was quiet, though it was Saturday night, but she found a few muggings in Crime Alley to warm up with. The low-life criminals were easily taken down and as Owlet looped a bola cord around their hands she wondered if she'd get a chance at a big time crime tonight, like fighting the Penguin, or maybe even Killer Croc.

It was then that Batman called in, connecting up to the comms unit installed in Owlet's cowl. "The Batcomputer is picking up a strange energy signature around Wayne Enterprises. Robin and I are on our way, but we need you to scope it out to see if there are any immediate threats."

"10-4," Owlet called back, masking the excitement in her voice with a robotic tone._ Finally_, she thought, _a real crime!_

Owlet gracefully took to the skies and guided her wings in the direction of Wayne Enterprises, finding a benevolent wind to carry her to her destination faster. As she neared the site she could see a hazy blue aura about the Tower. As she looked at the area she noticed the blue was more of a dancing fire that was settling over the top of the Tower. Down below she could see Batman and Robin exiting the Batmobile with the help of the magnification lenses in her cowl.

"It's like a blue fire," she reports in her comms unit. "Looks weird."

"My sensors are picking up small but strong traces of extraterrestrial residue," Robin says, probably tapping away at his wrist computer.

"Then let's get a closer look," chimes Owlet, propelling herself towards the strange blue fire.

"No, wait!" protested the Boy Wonder. But his exclamation fell on deaf ears as the girl flew into the blue fog. An instant explosion of brightness ensued, burning into the eyes of the Dynamic Duo like a bolt out lightning would.

As they regained their sight, the Caped Crusaders immediately called out to the Owl Girl, watching hopefully in the now left over blue smoke above to see if she'd emerge, answering their calls. But she never came out of the smoke, and a smothering silence fell over the Masked Marauders of Gotham City.

Mona Ryder had experienced lots of strange things in her time as Owlet. She'd seen men on and over the brink of madness, she'd seen murderers driven by a twisted sense of revenge, and she'd especially seen the empty looks of lost hope in the eyes of criminals on the streets. But in the year she'd been Owlet, she'd never personally seen or experienced anything relating to dimension travelling, besides reports on it stored in the files at the Batcave.

However she knew that as the bright flash of lightning enveloped her and the darkness of Gotham City completely disappeared she was getting a first look at interdimensional travelling. Mona couldn't even keep her eyes open as she was jerked back and forth without any control of her limbs. For a moment she was worried the forces were going to break her neck or her whole body in half.

Yet sooner or later she was quite literally spit out of the sky. The sun burned in her eyes as she attempted to correct her course, hoping to gain control of her synthetic wings. Her eyesight improved enough for her to see a building with a landing pad coming closer and closer. With a quick maneuvering of her wings, Owlet was able to fly over the platform, effectively dropping to a landing on it. For a moment she stood there, eyes wide under her cowl, her breathing shaky and labored as she trembled. Owlet stumbled a few steps, then fell to her knees, finally collapsing all the way onto her stomach, lying perfectly still besides the trembles still shaking her body.

And in his living room, Stark looked on, taken aback by this fallen grey figure that he'd seen pelted out of the sky. He could've sworn he'd seen the figure with a pair of grey wings that had extended from their arms, but now that the strange figure had landed, the wings were gone. Tony pressed a finger to his ear bud comms unit, calling Pepper in seconds. She picked up, but Stark didn't even allow her to put in a word before he spoke.

"You might want to come over," he says casually. "I think some leftover energy from the tessaract is acting up."

"So tell Fury," Pepper says, still slightly freaking out about the whole 'Jex-disappearing" thing. "Let S.H.I.E.L.D. handle it."

"Great idea," Tony responds, clapping his hands together. "I'll let them know it took your niece and traded her out with some person in a grey wing suit. I'll let you know how it went later if that's your only comment on the situation."

Pepper is silent for a few moments before she speaks again. "I'll be over in a few minutes." She hangs up as Tony stands, making his way out to the landing platform. The figure was just beginning to stir as he sat them up; slinging their arm around his shoulder so he could help them walk. The person didn't protest as they weakly walked along with Tony, inside and onto his couch. Tony saw they were wearing a cowl much like the one Steve Rogers wore as Captain America, though it was obvious the cowl did more than protect the figure's identity. Tony made a move to unlatch it but a spark erupted from it, shocking him. Though after the first initial shock, the cowl seemed to fizzle out of life. Stark was able to unlatch it now that the security system, no doubt one based on biometrics, had failed. The cowl, which Tony noticed looked very much like a great horned owl complete with little horns, came off easily, exposing the face of a teenage girl who looked a lot like Jex with her choppy brown hair and defined facial features.

The girl's eyelids were fluttering open and closed as if she were fighting to keep a hold on her consciousness. It was apparently a fight she was losing as she slipped off into some hopefully more peaceful world than the one she'd been thrust into. The fight oozed out of her body as she resigned into a sleep-like state, breathing slowly and measuredly as if knowing each breath counted.

Tony gaped at the girl. She truly did look a lot like Jex though Tony had never seen anyone in a suit quite like the one she was in. It was obviously heavily padded judging by the way it filled out the girl's almost frighteningly thin figure. Tony prodded the padding on her arms, testing out how thick it was. He easily determined it was bullet proof, noticing how the plates of bullet proof padding weren't connected at the joints, leaving her free to bend but also open for attack at her knees, elbows and neck. The layout was similar to the Iron Man suit, though the titanium alloy protected Tony and Jex all around. Tony's heart sank a little as he recalled the trade that happened that led to the switch-out of Tony's sidekick and this girl looked eerily similar to her.

The elevator door slid open to show Pepper who had messily thrown her hair into a haphazard bun and put on a pair of wrinkled pant suit with a different shoe on each foot. Pepper hurried into the room, rushing to the sofa to look own at the girl in the grey suit.

"Who is she?" Pepper asked incredulously, her trusty smart phone clutched tightly in her hand, though seemingly forgotten at the moment.

"No idea," Tony says honestly with a shrug. He hands Pepper the cowl. "She was wearing that. But I've never seen a costume like this before."

"Could she be a villain?" Pepper asked carefully, lightly rapping her knuckles against the helmet-like cowl.

"Maybe…" Tony mused, abruptly standing up and heading to his computer station. The floating screens appeared immediately and Tony began to tap away madly, the screens too hectic for anyone but him to understand. "Or maybe not."

"What are you talking about?" Pepper sighs, setting the cowl onto the sofa next to the girl. She stood protectively over the unconscious teenager, not even realizing what she was doing.

"The gamma rays the tessaract emitted were apparently still strong enough to create a residue that's stuck around for a week. Nobody's noticed it apparently, but it was strong enough to rip an opening into another dimension. I'm pretty sure Jex was transported to wherever this owl person came from. It would explain why we've never seen her before."

"Interdimensional travelling?" Pepper asks dubiously. "You don't think we've had enough of that lately?"

Stark shrugs. "I don't make the rules, Potts. If I did this whole thing would be a lot more interesting."

An incoming call rings throughout the living room and Stark sighs heavily as he picks up the phone.

"Stark Industries, this is Tony's secretary, how may I help you?" Tony asks in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"Cut the shit, Stark. Would you mind telling me why my people's gamma ray equipment picked up a huge amount of energy from Stark Industries?" Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. asks the Iron Avenger over the phone.

"Always nice to talk to you too, Nicky. We've really got to catch up sometime. How are you holding up after last week?"

"Stark, if you don't answer me now, I'll have an army of my guys aiming all their weapons at your little billionaire ass," Fury growls dangerously.

"I had no idea you were so interested in my ass, Director Fury. It appears we do have something in common."

"STARK!" the director bellows.

"You're absolutely no fun to play around with, Fury," Tony sighs, exasperated. "If you must know, my sidekick has possibly just been transported to another dimension with the leftover gamma rays residue that had emanated from the tessaract. In Crush's place, there's been a teenage girl in a grey suit transported here. She passed out a few minutes ago."

Fury was quiet for a moment. "And you just now decided to tell me?" he demands with a furious undertone.

"Cut me some slack, Fury. I was a bit traumatized by the disappearance of my sidekick, you know," Tony responds, not crossly.

"I have a squad on the way to pick her up," Fury says automatically. "They'll be at Stark Industries within 10 minutes."

"Woah, slow down here, Nicky. Don't you think since she is the kid that got traded out with my sidekick that makes her my responsibility?"

"Anything having to do with gamma radiation and the tessaract is automatically under the jurisdiction of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Then I'm coming with you," Stark says decisively, as if it's common knowledge.

"That's not a good id-"

"Until Jex is back here and safe, I'm not letting this kid out of my sight." Tony's voice was low and dangerous. When it came to the kid he thought of as his surrogate daughter, no one was going to tell him what to do.

"Fine. But no funny business, Stark." The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. hung up without a goodbye.

"Apparently our new friends from S.H.I.E.L.D. are quite intrigued with Owl Girl here," Tony says, gesturing to the unconscious form of the teenager on the sofa.

"What do you think they'll do with her?" Pepper asks eyes wide. She looks actually worried for the girl.

"Knowing Fury, he'll probably lock her up in some Hulk grade cage until she wakes up and proves she is or isn't a threat," Tony replies idly. "Bit of a primitive method if you ask me, but effective all the same I suppose. Maybe they'll run a few tests on her and see what's making her tick and all that fun stuff."

Pepper sighed, knowing she couldn't do anything about the mysterious girl's fate. She brushed a strand of hair from the girl's face. "I just hope we can get her back to where she's from and get Jex back as well."

"Unless the kid doesn't want to go back to wherever she's from," Tony sighs solemnly, uncharacteristically serious. "But otherwise I think that's all we're hoping for." The two simultaneously looked away from the girl, waiting for S.H.I.E.L.D. to show up and take her away.


End file.
